


How To Be Vulnerable

by sunsetjenny



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Fluff, Healing, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt/Comfort, Injury Recovery, Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Post-Season/Series 06, TW IN SECOND CHAPTER (ANXIETY ATTACK)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:47:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetjenny/pseuds/sunsetjenny
Summary: How does one ever handle the gaping hole of space by themselves?With the weight of insecurities and remerging feelings it is deemed almost impossible!Well, not for Lance Mcclain that is.By all accounts, he is the master of these attributes.
Relationships: Keith & Lance (Voltron), Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 124





	1. Numb

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is a lot more angsty then my last ones, but it will get better I promise :)
> 
> I don't know yet if I will have to put a trigger warning for my next chapter since I plan on including an anxiety attack, but if I do, I will most defiantly tell you guys
> 
> Anxiety things

Everyone in the infinite galaxies that spread across the wide domain of the cosmos that had the privilege of Voltron visiting over the past two years knew of the blue now formally red paladin, Lance, as the emotional, over-zealous, would cry over a simple paper cut yet flirtatious, show-stopping paladin out of the rest. 

Not that he was denying it, to say the least.

It was most certainly right on most accounts.

Lance was the one and only honorary sharpshooter of the Voltron organization and would have the honor of blessing anyone with his prestigious autograph, along with the opportunity to get a picture with the infamous celebrity.

But, something was missing to this overall general statement of his character, a mere missable detail, one could almost describe as a misdemeanor, that could only be accumulated by those who had the ability to read his mind to the sharpest degree.

The only person in his life who was ever able to be a witness of that was his own mother.

So, it wasn't surprising that his teammates, nonetheless his best friends, didn't pick up on this tiny glitch in his personality, waving it away whenever it showed through the cracks of his figurative wall.

It was vulnerability.

Yes, it may sound ridiculous, even applauding to the fact that the word vulnerability was used to describe Lance, the red paladin, the holy grail to young aliens across the world who had dreams of living in his footsteps. 

Hell, come to think of it, he even wore his emotions and whatever feelings Lance would be experiencing at that time on the tail end of his sleeve for all to see, how could he ever not be vulnerable?

That was more complex to explain.

It could be summed up with the right use of words and phrases as an act of protection and security.

What did he mean by this statement?

Well, no one would take the disposable, nonchalant boy from Cuba seriously if he ever were to attempt to be serious now, would they?

The only way Lance would continue to get noticed and gain wider popularity and fame along with the other paladins was by keeping up his rampageous, hard to handle, and most certainly playboy of the year personality and status.

Accompanying that realization of his most definite future, Lance had concluded that the only way he could ever be of use to Voltron as a person other than piloting the blue or red lion would be taking up the position as the "class clown", and performing whatever he could to amuse his teammates on the daily.

Or in retrospect, the dramatic, butt end of the joke that lightened up every drab situation the team would encounter.

In Lance's defense, it had worked out at first.

The loud, fake weeping antics whenever Lance would accidentally bump his bare knee on a side piece of equipment in the training room or would purposely fall over a nearby wire to earn a shared groan or hint of laughter from souls nearby.

But, as all things do, his fraudulent act got more intensely draining the longer he performed it.

It of course had been simple to carry out the first couple of months the paladins had worked on the Castle of Lions, the constant fighting and meetings with diplomats from other planets giving him plenty of material to work with.

However, the longer he and the rest of his teammates had remained out in space, the more exhausted Lance became.

It eventually got up to the point that the razor-sharp insults from Pidge and Shiro to "shut up and listen for once", and the disappointed and thoroughly embarrassed glares Allura and Hunk gave him every other meeting when he attempted to speak up and vocalize his honest opinion on the situation cracked through that wall of lies he had been sporting around for the whole trip, thus shutting Lance down completely

What did he mean by that expression?

There are numerous possibilities in describing what the phrase "shutting down" meant in Lance's mind.

When the scenery around you appeared to go grey and dull, the stars losing their glistening shine, the smells becoming oily and bland, and the activities you once looked forward to participating in all day became nothing more than everyday chores that took all the energy one could muster up an hour beforehand.

When it seemed that every day dragged on longer than the last, and the only relaxation one was able to partake in was that of sleep.

When even sleep seemed to be a harsh battle in itself.

When communicating with others was a bitter hardship that left Lance with a sour taste in his mouth and the urge to scream at the next being that commented on his fighting techniques or nagged at him to pay attention to the meeting ajar.

When his already teetering friendship with a specific hotheaded paladin left Lance in a rage of flames and ash, the numbness of space giving way for a few minutes of fiery anger that could burn a hole in the back of someone's head if they were not careful enough.

This is what led to Lance's alter ego giving out below him, and unveiling the vulnerable, traumatized teenager beneath.

It couldn't help the circumstances that his urge to flirt with others and his many sneaky intentions to win over Allura had been lost to the void as well, that engraved hole in his heart that had been put there in the first place by the hand of his insecurities and crippling doubt deepening by the second.

And as all good things come to the end, so did Lance's composer.

When the bubbly, laidback teenager finally gave way to his bursting emotions cracking under the pressure of society and his friend's opinions and expectations.

Luckily, his cracking moment had happened while he was alone.

Or, what could count as alone.

The paladins had just defeated an extremely difficult Galra ship earlier on that day, the fleet of soldiers doing unspeakable damage on the paladin's ships and physical bodies in the process, everyone struggling to walk to the castle's sitting area and healing pods.

In the midst of this, Lance had extracted himself from the comfort of the Red lion's seat, the high of adrenaline and buzz of combat dissolving immediately the moment his body was ripped away from the chair, giving way to the piercing, aching pain in his muscles and down to the core of his bones.

Patting Red's controls soothingly on his way out, Lance allowed himself to soak in that feeling of burning intensity that flowed through the lion consistently, enabling it to course through the tips of his fingers for a while longer, stroking the faint throbbing between his eyebrows from the destructive explosions that had transpired especially too close.

Smiling softly at the quiet purr that Red produced from the back of her throat, echoing in the back of his mind, Lance hastily hopped out of his mechanical lion's mouth, the resounding thump of his feet reverberating through the spacious hanger.

As expected, no one paid attention.

For how would they, his teammates had left minutes beforehand.

Leaving Lance.

By himself.

Alone.

Grimacing at that wicked thought, Lance began to drag himself across the tiled floor, his eyes wandering over to the overbearing black lion seated next to Red, its posture stiff and unyielding.

Almost as if it hadn't moved.

Hesitating, Lance paused in front of the enormous lion in questioning, eyeing the jaws of the ferocious beast as if expecting it's brooding paladin to be sitting up there, staring back down at him.

Nobody was sitting there, to his dismay.

Sighing, against his better common sense he had gained over the course of being an intergalactic warrior, Lance gradually approached the Black lion's leg, his limbs stinging at every touch of contact with the thick floor, yelling for him to halt.

Ignoring his flaming appendages, the red paladin found himself resting his forehead against the lion's leg, his hands pressing into both sides of the cool material almost as if grounding himself.

He may have pressed into it too hard.

Nearly a second later, the Black lion jerked forward suddenly, it's mighty head resting onto the hanger floor, jaws unhinging open almost as if urging for Lance to walk inside.

That was the first time that had happened.

Slightly spooked at the Black lion's actions, Lance steadily inched towards the gaping opening, weapon raised in fear, as he tensely waited for a Galra enemy to pop out at any moment, sword high and ready to cut through his clunky paladin armor.

Yet, nothing happened.

Climbing anxiously into the Black lion's cockpit, an uneasy feeling tightened around Lance's chest as he tiptoed to the pilot's seat, a hushed silence filling the meager piloting space which had been full of life an hour beforehand in battle.

"Keith?"

Twisting the pilot seat in his direction, Lance stared in utter horror at the flimsy body of his leader leaning bonelessly against his seat, chest expanding weakly as Keith groaned in pain, the visor of his helmet cracked down the middle.

"What the fuck, man? Why didn't you call one of us!"

Panicking, Lance quickly ripped Keith's helmet off to give him a chance to breathe, the latter taking an intense breath in before collapsing against chair again, eyes shifting open.

"Lance?"

"Yeah, it's me, dumbass! Why didn't you tell anyone you were hurt!"

"I did, I called you, but the income was full of static," Keith whispered faintly, the end of his mouth wobbling almost as if he was suppressing a laugh, eyebrows relaxing as his eyes focused in on Lance, relief overflowing his features.

Swallowing thickly, Lance guided himself down on one knee in front of Keith's chair, hands shaking as he rested them on top his padded knees, searching for any exterior sign of injury on his leader.

"Can you walk?"

"No."

Of course, he couldn't.

Scoffing at Keith's blunt response, Lance leaned towards Keith gently, tugging his injured teammate up from under his arms as he propped him into his side, wrapping an arm around his middle.

Catching on, Keith sluggishly slung an arm over Lance's shoulder, wincing in pain as his feet pressed into the cockpit's floor, knees nearly giving out underneath him.

Side eyeing the black paladin, Lance brought more of Keith's weight onto space above his hips, the red paladin's body growing stiff with the extra pounds.

"Is this ok?"

"Yeah, it's fine."

"I would carry you, but I think I injured my arm in action," Lance proclaimed softly, the throbbing pain in his free arm reminding him almost instantly as he gritted his teeth, resting it against his chest plate. "Also, ever since you got back from your trip with your mom and space wolf, you seem to have gained a whole lot of muscle."

"Gee thanks, Lance."

"It's a compliment! What? You want me to attempt to pick you up right now?" Lance gawked as he hauled Keith out of the Black Lion, silently thanking the stars above for letting him find Keith before his injuries became infected.

"No, because we will both fall over. But, I'll take you up on that offer after we both take a trip to the healing pods."

Laughing at his bold comment, Lance craned his neck to the side to catch a better glance of Keith, the other smirking slyly at him.

"Wow, look at you being all confident, I thought that was my job, Kogane."

"I never said that I was being the one being picked up."

"Oh, fuck off! I'm trying to save your ass here!"

And with that, both paladins fell into a raw fit of laughter, chest tightening with pain every other second, Lance's former worry of the black paladin slipping away, a sense of belonging now taking up that long-awaited reservation. 

During their endless trip to the healing pods, the two found themselves settling into a comfortable banter, nostalgia flowing through Lance's veins as he allowed himself to open up to a person for the first time in months, the building feeling of hopelessness that had threatened to engulf Lance whole smothered completely by the temporary intimate situation he shared with Keith. 

Finally, after rows upon rows of hallways had passed, their cold tone lights blurring in with one another into a cystoscope of blue, the co-leaders in battle arrived at the medical center, Lance practically throwing himself into the room.

Pressing his palm firmly into one of the adjacent healing pods, Lance waited anxiously as the pale blue translucent glass cleared up revealing the inside of the pod, opening up with a puff of steam as it welcomed the black paladin inside to unwind, the unexplainable familiar smell of the pod filling Lance's nose, a pang of homesickness stinging his lungs.

Adjusting his position, Lance carefully guided Keith into the pod, his arms straining to keep him in balance as he wobbly stepped inside, bracing the sides of the pod for additional leverage.

Looking over his leader one last time, Lance shot Keith a comforting smile paired along with an encouraging thumbs-up as he moved towards the pod's door to close it, flinching as a stray pale hand shot out of the pod taking hold of his wrist, warmth spreading down his fingers, inching its way up his arm.

"Lance."

"Yeah, samurai?"

"You'll be here when I wake up, right?"

"I'm not just going to leave you here, Keith."

Not like everyone else does for him.

Throwing that speculation aside, Lance proceeded to recognize the thoughtful expression that had taken refuge on Keith's face, the paladin's eyes going soft as his features seemed to relax for the first time since Lance found him back in the Black lion.

Unable to think of anything else to say to lighten the drab mood, Lance began to brainstorm ideas to move away from Keith's grasp when the black paladin uncurled his grip around his wrist, and instead of carelessly enabling Lance's hand to fall back to his side, grasped it lightly as one would when leading their partner in a formal dance.

"Ok, sharpshooter."

Tenderly rubbing his thumb against the back of Lance's bruised knuckles, Keith begrudgingly pulled his hand back into the pod, nodding towards the pod's button, a ghost of a grin kneading the curve end of his jaw.

Pushing his palm into the control button, Lance silently watched as the door slid closed, the enigmatic Altean smoke filling the chamber luring Keith into a death-like sleep, his eyes slipping closed as he kept his gaze on Lance.

Rubbing a rough hand across his face, Lance craned his neck to glimpse at the healing pod next to Keith's, it's glassy door wide open and ready for Lance to step in.

Hurrying inside, the red paladin hastily placed a firm hand against his chest, fingers shaking as the pod slowly closed shut, the erratic pattern of his heartbeat reminding him of the usual burn of heat that caressed the softness of his cheeks, toasting his body in a comfortable luminosity.

Loosening his shoulders, Lance released a shallow exhale as smoke filled the chamber, his body going limp as sleep pulled at the ends of his eyelids, black spots clouding his vision until everything seeped into subconsciousness, the sound of his breathing evening out and becoming distant.


	2. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ***TRIGGER WARNING***
> 
> THERE WILL BE AN ANXIETY ATTACK IN THIS CHAPTER!*****
> 
> "I'VE PUT STARS WHERE IT STARTS AND WHERE IT ENDS, SO YOU CAN SKIP IT IF YOU AREN'T COMFORTABLE WITH IT!*****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not me having this in my drafts for nearly a month <3
> 
> I'm going to be honest, I wrote this story as a sort of vent, because I experienced a sudden family passing a few days earlier!
> 
> This was the only way I was really able to describe how I was feeling, so I hope you understand why I didn't update for awhile!
> 
> Also, school is kicking my ass, so I may not get around to writing as often!!! LOVE YOU ALL <3333

Except, his slumber wasn't peaceful.

No, it was a raging hell of screaming thoughts and buried feelings that ripped through Lance's head, choking him from the inside out.

It was traumatic memories from close calls in battle and gut-churning fights he had amidst his teammates that broke free from their locked up cages and resurfaced in Lance's mind, plaguing him with a sense of loneliness and abandonment he had successfully been running from these past several months.

It was the string of lies he had spewed to everyone when they first met, the lies that had morphed his flirty, outgoing personality to one of an egotistical, good for nothing player that only cared about winning over princess Allura, and crying whenever something didn't go his way.

Most definitely, it was the numbness that had plugged itself into Lance's soul and wrung out any feeling other than sadness to be swept up into the everlasting depts of space, out of reach, never to be felt by the warmth of his fingertips again.

It was the tiny, unable to admit pinch of feelings that yanked on Lance's nerves whenever a certain paladin was around, the yearning and painful wanting of one who could never be yours no matter how hard you wish it to be true.

It was those combustions of feelings, emotions, and aggravating thoughts that chased Lance around and around in his morbid dreams that caused the red paladin to startle awake with a choked cry, arms extended forward as he fell out of the pod, chest tightening in horror as his helmet loosely tipped off his head, bouncing hollowly on the floor.

Rolling onto his side, Lance groaned in pain as he rubbed the now inflamed bruise above his hip, his paladin armor sporting around a newly dented blemish.

Fuck, he didn't take off Keith and his paladin armor.

Hopefully, that didn't malfunction the healing process while they were in there.

And with that last clear coherent thought, the chaos of anxiety and buildup grieving that had pursued Lance throughout his sleepless slumber rushed back in within direr seconds, fear twisting around his throat.

*****Reality crashed around him in a mess of shapes and colors as everything became excessively loud and out of focus, his head filling up with water polluted by negative creeds, drowning him in a pool of self-loathing. 

Collapsing onto the ground, Lance's shoulders shook with oncoming sobs, the internal walls he kept so firmly paved and seal proof from people's opinions and all of the misfortunes in the world finally breaking free, tears kissing the sides of his cheeks. 

The variety of times he had held back tears and instead choose to shut down to save an ounce of dignity left flooding into the front of his mind, replaying behind his eyes. 

From the dilapidated and collapsing planets, the Galra had given no mercy and even, in fact, took amusement in taking life, where aliens lay injured in pop up hospitals and the smell of burning buildings and ash intoxicating the atmosphere.

Or the dying citizens ranging in age and species that Lance had cradled closely to his chest as they took their last breath, their hands tightly interlocked as the light that had once filled their eyes drifted away, leaving only the trace of life at its purest form before their irises went pale and flat, skin cold to the touch. 

He hadn't cried.

Not even a single tear.

It wasn't a wonder that a waterfall of tears shed from Lance's navy blue eyes, drenching the skin of his bare hands, and coating the floor in a pond of salty water.

Wails softly left Lance's lips as he curled further into himself, fists balling into fists beside his head as he spiraled further and further away from consciousness, an imaginary hand reaching out to the surface, begging for someone to take it, someone to share the pain he felt deep in his soul.*****

But, no one came.

Not as if he was expecting anyone to come to his rescue.

No one on the Castle of Lions even cared.

"Lance?"

They were all busy with each other.

"LANCE!"

"Keith?"

Opening up his dreary eyes, Lance lazily lifted his head to come face to face with a tear-filled Keith, his face twisted into agony as he clung onto Lance's forearms, his hands slipping down to grip onto Lance's.

"Jesus Christ, are you ok?"

"Says you, you're the one close to tears," Lance laughed waterly, wobbly sitting on the back of his knees as he steadied Keith, his heart skipping a beat at the steal grip of Keith's hands. "Seriously man, are you ok?"

"Lance, what the fuck!"

"What?"

"You're the one having a panic attack!"

"Dude, first off, it's an anxiety attack, and second off this is normal!" Lance fought back, the panic that had once engulfed him quieting down, rushing out of his veins as an invisible dense gas, absorbing into the floor below. "Besides, look it's over!"

Forcing a smile, Lance glanced up at the crystal ceiling purposely avoiding Keith's stare, quietly thanked his partner internally for creating a distraction from his internal dilemma, bringing him back to the world around him.

Out of nowhere, a flash of jet black flew by the corner of Lance's left eye as he hurled himself forward, bringing his arm down to the side of his leg reaching for his bayard reflexively.

Yet, no one attacked him.

Instead, a pair of trembling arms wrapped around the back of his shoulders as the once stone-faced, hard to read leader of Voltron fell apart, pulling Lance towards the front of his armor as he crushed the Cuban boy in his death grip, hot tears spilling out onto the bare skin of Lance's neck.

Unable to breathe properly, the reason partly being a mixture of the after-effects of his anxiety attacks and oncoming heart attack, Lance froze stiffly in his spot, eyes darting back and forth from Keith's face buried deep into the side of his neck, to the Castle door on the opposite side of the room, it's ominous presence weighing down on Lance's shoulders as he almost expected one of their other teammates to catch them in the act, Keith shoving him away and never revisiting this moment ever again.

"You don't have to hide your pain from me, Lance," Keith whispered into the swell of Lance's neck, as his hair tickled the front of his throat, arms tightening their hold around the red paladin.

Snorting, Lance hesitantly leaned into Keith's touch, bringing his arms around the other's shoulders as he rested his head into the crook of the black paladin's shoulder, eyes stinging from a new batch of tears.

"That is the most cliche saying you could have used right now."

"I'm being serious, Lance. Ever since I got back you've seemed a whole lot quieter and hunched in towards yourself. Did something happen while I was?"

Unable to control the eruption of rage that shot up Lance's chest burning the tip of his tongue as if he swallowed one of the hottest peppers across the galaxy, Lance yanked himself away from Keith's grasp, hopping onto his feet as he glared down at his leader fiercely, clenching his fists, the once tender moment shattering around them, rigid and menacing to the touch, slicing open any who dared to touch or even attempt to pick up the broken pieces.

"No shit, mullet. What happened is that you left the team! So, don't go telling me that I changed! You're the one who decided to abandon Voltron to go off and join some stupid rebelling force with headquarters placed conveniently in the middle of nowhere!"

"You think I wanted to leave Voltron! I had an opportunity, a chance to strengthen the alliance between the Blade of Moroma and the rest of the other planets with Voltron! I had the possibility to finally learn something about my mother!"

"I know! I understand how much knowing any speck of information about her must have been important to you, but you could of at least visited! You could have called us outside of the occasional business call for monthly updates and emergency meetings!"

"In my defense, you never called me either!"

Pinching his between his eyebrows roughly, Lance took a step back as Keith jumped to his feet, needing to put distance between him and the latter.

"Don't go blaming this all on me, Keith."

"I'm not! But, I don't know what you want me to say! I'm sorry? Can we talk? I was wrong?"

"Goddamit Keith, you can be so oblivious!" Lance hissed out fiercely, throwing his hands into the air in frustration as the tips of his fingers found their way into his messy locks, pulling at the outgrown dead ends. "I missed you! I missed you so much it hurt to breathe, to eat, even to sleep! I missed you so fuckin much all I wanted to do was to kiss you, to hold your face, to feel your warmth! I wanted you to be here with me, fighting along with me, and laughing with me! But, you of course didn't know, or care to realize that fact and left me with these annoyingly decisive feelings for me to sort out by myself!"

Wait, fuck.

Exhaling aggressively, Lance clamped his jaw tensely as he dug his fingers into the sides of his shoulders, wincing at the rough grip of his fists as he averted his gaze from the now gawking black paladin, feeling all too small in Keith's stare. 

"Look, Keith, I am not blaming you for leaving Voltron, I'm frustrated that you left without telling us beforehand! I should have more supportive of your decision, and I'm glad that you are back, although not for the best reasons, I will be more thoughtful about your decision." Lance began gently, choosing his words carefully as he unraveled the buildup guilt that had been knawing at the back of his mind for the past year since his leave. "What I might have said in the heat of anger doesn't matter, it was just said in spite. I promise I am not mad at you, but I believe we should go our separate ways, for now."

Plastering a half-smile across the forced stretch of his lips, Lance shifted his eyes over to the newly washed jacket that lay timidly over the side of a chair nearby, a tiny, ghostly stained note peeking out from underneath the article of clothing, it's bulky handwriting most likely belonging to sweet, yet innocent Hunk who had walked in earlier while the two had been in the healing pods

"No, Lance, we're not dropping this conversation."

"What?"

"I'm not just going to walk away from you after one stupid argument! We've had enough time away from one another, hell I vanished into the quantum abyss for two whole years! I don't want to leave you again, because what if something else rips one of us away from one another! We need to talk this out!" Keith hissed, holding onto Lance's wrist as he planted his feet into the marble ground, refusing to move out of the red paladin's way.

"What else is there to talk about, Keith! I practically spilled my guts out to you, and you haven't said a word back! What do you want me to do, profess my undying love for you on top of that?

"Ok, first off, you and I both know I have a difficult time expressing how I feel with people, even with Shiro!" Keith sighed, his grip tightening as Lance shifted anxiously in place, his freshly ironed jacket wrinkling in the steal hold of his fists. "Second, you already did!"

"Ok, so just make fun of me already! Lancy Lance has a crush on mullethead over here, get over yourself!"

"Lance!" Keith snapped suddenly, his expressing stoning over as his hand loosened their grip on his wrist, repeating the same motion they had when Lance was about to leave Keith in the healing pod, this time interlocking their fingers together, palms brushed up against one another. "The feelings are mutual."

"Huh?"

"I like you, too," Keith sputtered, tripping over his words as he glimpsed at the door behind him, posture morphing into one of a nervous teenage boy, not the bold, emotionless leader that had stood in his place before. "Fuck, wait, that's not how I wanted to tell you."

Feeling the bubble of laughter pop up through his chest, Lance struggled to keep the edges of his lips from tipping up, mouth quivering violently as he coughed aggressively into the back of his free hand, heart jumping and screeching around in the safe cavity of his chest.

"You like me? The infamous leader of Voltron and the moodiest person on the world, Keith Kogane, likes me?"

"Now you're making me regret it."

"I just," Lance started, pushing back the sweaty bangs and baby hairs that curled in towards his head as he squeezed Keith's hand excitedly, feet tapping briskly in place. "I never thought that this would ever happen. I mean, you the emo loner, and me the spontaneous sharpshooter! God, ok even my crush on Allura wasn't this intense!"

"Was that supposed to be flattering?"

"No! Ugh, fuck you Keith, and your stupid mysterious presence b-s. If you weren't so intriguing I wouldn't have fallen for you!"

"Not like you were any help with your charming smiles and charisma! I swear you were flirting with me every other mission!"

Reluctantly releasing Keith's hand, Lance threw a hand over the top of his forehead as he embarrassingly covered the front of his eyelids, slipping into the comfort presence of his worn-down jacket as he snickered to himself, the tremble that had been snaking through the joints of his hands taking off into the air, settling the achy feeling of his bones.

"How the hell did we get from me having an anxiety attack to confessing our repressed feelings for one another?"

"I have no idea at this point." Keith smiled thoughtfully, shrugging off the strange encounter as another one of the universe's strange tricks to bring the graduated space cadets together. "But, I think we still have a lot to talk about, one being your anxiety attacks."

Sighing deeply, Lance shrugged innocently at Keith's comment as he carefully started inching his way towards the edge of the room, feet sliding noiselessly across the floor.

"If we must, mullet. But, you'll have to beat me to your room first!"

"Lance, you dick!"

Scampering out the barely slid open door of the outside corridor, the red paladin frantically skidded down the long, windowless hallways as the shouts of his fellow comrade echoed around him, adrenaline kicking in without a moment to spare.

"You're kinda slow, Keith!"

"Yeah, but I am not weak, sharpshooter! I'll pick your lanky ass up and throw you!

"Sounds like fun!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!
> 
> I wanna add that the part about Lance interacting with aliens on planets destroyed by the Galra was inspired by "hxneychld" tumblr post!!!!
> 
> You can see it on "kittenklance"'s Instagram page, the link to the post below!
> 
> https://www.instagram.com/p/CDmc58Vg12E/?igshid=rcov3m9tbrvc

**Author's Note:**

> I hate angst, but I like writing it too??


End file.
